Playing with fire (open for 1 male, PM to join)

Her breath caught in her chest as her hand brushed against the tender flesh of her thigh. The memory of his eyes burned in her mind. Gently her fingers inched towards her dripping sex as she remembered the way he'd looked at her. There had been such a heat in them, a fire powering thoughts that could only be impure. She gasped as she slid a single finger inside her core. Another hand moved to her breast as she eased the ache within. Her teeth firmed clamped on her bottom lip to muffle her cries.This wasn't the type of behavior a lady should have, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop imaging him taking her, those eyes boring into her from above. Faster and faster he moved within as her hips bucked against her touch. It was fast approaching, that feeling. Her hand gripped the sheet on her bed as climax crashed upon her. She breathed his name as her body went limp. Her chest rose and fell as a smile draped across her face.

It had been months since Aunt Rose's christmas party. This was her parent's last attempt to get her noticed. Despite their tries no one had come to court her, and all the sons of their acquaintances we're already married. So they'd done their best to make her look less plain looking. It was there she'd seen him. Rumor had it that he was a count of some kind attending university in town. His family trying to keep the trouble he'd been in under wraps. Somehow, for a brief moment she'd caught his eye. He stared at her for a long while, licking his lips before drawing them into a smirk. There was no doubt that he was a wolf looking for prey. Had he come to her, she would not refuse him. Neither a dance nor her body could she deny him. Then, in an agonizing turn, he looked away and went back to his conversation with several men in the corner. That look made her chest hot and it was becoming difficult to breathe. She'd run to the balcony to breathe in the night air and to compose herself. When she'd returned, him and the other gentlemen had disappeared. After her failure at the party, her aunt had invited her to house sit for her that spring. She willingly accepted.

What they didn't know, was that this spring she hadn't taken ill with allergies. Instead she'd snuck out for hours at a time in men's clothing. It was stupid, improper, reckless, and a thousand other things, but it was the only thing that seemed to help. She'd searched out his haunts and the exits to his classes. For now, just seeing him from a far was enough. He was a known womanizer and guilty of seducing women with and without status. Yet, despite it all, that dark impulse pushed her forward, made her want things from him. Dirty depraved things that could make her family disown her. She trembled watching him, even dressed as she was. Her hair was stuffed beneath a dusty bowler derby, and her body hidden beneath an old suit she'd found in the attic.

Today was different as she hid herself in that corridor. Many men were exiting the classroom but not a single one was him. It was then a hand fell upon her shoulder and a familar voice rang out from behind. She turned slowly to see him glancing down at her.

"What are you doing?"

She went silent.

"Are you deaf? What are you doing? Why have you been following me?" he said.

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Samantha Kingsley
Age: 18
Hair: light brown
Eyes: dark brown
Skin: Pale

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Looking for one dominant male to play a naughty young count attending college in the victorian era, with a reputation of bedding young society girls. Basically this should be a seduction thread.

If interested drop me a PM. Also those who do not know the meaning of basic grammar and spell check need not apply.

Name: Count Damian Welles
Age: 23
Hair: Dark Brown
Eyes: Light Blue
Height: 6'1
Weight: 175

Son of Count Carlton Welles.

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Damian's studies at the university were not going well. It wasn't that he lacked intelligence-he was perhaps the cleverest in his glass, quick to pick up on concepts. It was just that he found it difficult to apply to principles such as economics when there was so much else happening. In truth, Damian never considered much where his generous monthly allowance came from, beyond that his father sent it to him. He simply lived well on it, occasionally gambling some amount of it away while the rest was spent surrounding himself in comfort. His parents had long since decided that they did not want to know how he shamefully spent his time, so long as word of it did not get back to them.

That had eventually bought him a great deal of freedom. After having gotten some tavern girl with child, his parents had had to buy her off and then they'd sent him far away for his education to help avoid a scandal. his kind was not supposed to mix with peasant women or tavern servers, he was supposed to associate with women of breeding. Of course, he'd almost created several scandals with such women as well. He had learned too well how charming he could be, how effective his looks were at making women lose control of themselves. His first partner had been a chamber maid in his own parents' house, and she'd shown him a lot of the tricks which had served him so well since. his parents would never have allowed such a woman in their service if they'd known exactly what kind of woman she was. He smiled remembering her.

After being banished from his parents house, he'd established his own household here, by the university. And her entertained himself as he would without his parents' judgment. His father's money left him in good stead. Even his reputation seemed to benefit him-ladies knew who he was, what kind of man he was, and certain ladies were drawn to that-he had little need to explain to such ladies why they were soon expelled from his bedchamber. He was a womanizer, and proud of it. Damian realized that he'd allowed his mental reverie to completely carry him away, and that his professor's lecture was ending.

He rose, quickly exchanged some pleasantries with his classmates-most of whom were younger than he-and then paused in the doorway. A quick glance down the street told him that the same young man whom he'd seen following the past week was yet again outside his glass. He wondered if the man was an agent of his parents, sent to keep tabs on him. Damian quickly circled around the building, making sure not to remain seen. The young man was still there, carefully eying the door. Damian began to approach him, but came up short. Beneath the bulky, misfitting suit...he studied the shape. Was that a woman beneath that out-dated overcoat? There did seem to be an appropriate suggestion of curves.

He grinned, wondering. Someone he'd bedded before, unable to let go? He doubted it-she seemed too young, the face too unfamiliar. He smirked, thoughtfully. A woman stalking after him, even dressing up as a man to do so. He already had ideas for how to have fun with this one. He schooled his face, deciding to display an appropriate level of ourtage, and then slipped up behind her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She didn't respond, instead trying to hide her face from him.

"Are you deaf? What are you doing? Why have you been following me?"

She swallowed hard, trying not to lose her composure. The eyes she'd spent many a night dreaming of, were boring into her. What could be said? There was no good explanation as to why she should be there, but there was one. No one had ever looked at her the way he had. "You've really screwed things up this time," she thought. For a moment no words would come, then in one short burst came the lie that might save her.

"I'm terribly sorry sir. You see I've recently learned about your exploits, and I'd like to be more like you. You're good with women and I am not. I apologize if I've offended you. I won't bother you again."

She'd done her best to lower her voice a bit, but at best she sounded like a young boy. He stared her over as if considering her words. He had to buy it or she was finished. If her family caught word of it, they'd cast her out. Why in hell had she even come here? It was stupid, possibly the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Even as she thought this, she also thought about the fact that it was the closest they'd ever been. Already the heat was building in her as the thoughts from this morning came flooding back. His body pressed against hers, the smell of him, the taste of his lips. He'd have her, make her his own, but these were only fantasies. Right now, reality was staring down at her. Why had she been so careless? Maybe it was his smile, or maybe it was just that she wanted to feel like she had something special for once in her life. All the time, her mother told her how plain looking she was and that she'd have to work extra hard to attract a good match. Mr. Kingley owned several businesses and her family was well respected, so it was important that it all be left in the right hands. When she failed time and again, it disgraced her family and put them in a terrible position. Now here she was with this man who had the worst reputation in town and dressed in men's attire. Yet all she could think about was how beautiful he was.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you Mr. Welles..."

Damian watched her as she swallowed. He was curious what she would say about being here, dressed as a man, having shamed herself by literally stalking him. In his mind he was wondering what she might look like in her more everday clothes-rather, how should look removing them. The suit coat was bulky on her and hid her curves, though they were apparently fine enough that he could discern hints of them beneath. He looked at her face another moment as she appeared to be searching for words-did he recognize her?


"I'm terribly sorry sir. You see I've recently learned about your exploits, and I'd like to be more like you. You're good with women and I am not. I apologize if I've offended you. I won't bother you again."

He allowed himself a grin-it was an appropriate enough response to her words, as well as to the situation. She was trying to pass herself off as a man. Well, he'd have to disabuse her of the notion and find out who she was. Wait, would he? His grin held for a moment-this could actually turn out to be a very pleasant distraction. His mind went into overdrive, quickly evaluating how he could have some fun with this. He could let her believe he was unaware of her gender, let her follow him around. And eventually he would get beneath her-well, into her pants, in this case.


"I'm sorry to have bothered you Mr. Welles..."

Damian quickly laughed and kept his hand on the girl's shoulder, letting his fingers dig in and hold her as she tried to turn away. "No, no, my friend, don't leave just yet. I'm flattered....though apparently my reputation is really growing legs, more than my parents would care to know. Come, you must tell me your name and what you've heard of me. Maybe I'll give you a few pointers." He smiled at her as she seemed to hesitate, letting his grin grow infectious.

"Come, now, don't be rude. I'm heading to the alehouse-join me. I'll buy you a round." He wanted to chuckle beneath his breath-he suspected that this young woman had ever been inside such an establishment. This could be interesting.

This was foolish he'd never buy it, she was done for. All this time, watching him from a distance, she never imagined he'd catch her. It was too much to resist, with him so close. She had to see him. The way he moved with such confidence. Now it would be over. Her childish feelings and shameful desires, would need to be swept under the rug. She would try to accept it. What happened next surprised her. Instead of casting down a look of distain, he grinned. Then he began to laugh. She moved to take her leave, but his hand never left her shoulder. It never even occured to her that he'd been touching her this whole time, there we're bigger problems to attend to.

"No, no, my friend, don't leave just yet. I'm flattered....though apparently my reputation is really growing legs, more than my parents would care to know. Come, you must tell me your name and what you've heard of me. Maybe I'll give you a few pointers."

Her plan had worked and all too well. Her chest was burning, her heart pounding as he tightened his grip. This was what she'd always wanted wasn't it? Would the household discover she was missing? She froze in place as he urged her to join him. His smile had her mesmerized and she could smell his cologne being this close. It was better than she ever imagined and it was easy to forget the kind of man he was. His grin was similar to the one he gave her that night, but not the same.

"Come, now, don't be rude. I'm heading to the alehouse-join me. I'll buy you a round."

Eventually she nodded. The charade had to be kept up for the safety of her reputation, so she began walking with him. At first she stared at the ground. His touch was having more of an effect on her than she expected. Her nipples hardened and her arousal began soaking through her underthings. She took several deep breaths before responding.

"Really sir you are too kind. I am just a humble admirer, but if you insist. My name is Samuel Jones. I've heard that you have women begging at your feet. You give them the greatest pleasure they've ever known and then leave them a shattered mess. I guess I find that fascinating."

It was surprising at how easy it was lying like this. She'd never done it before, and yet it made her feel alive. Her parents would kill her if they knew, so she wouldn't tell them. It couldn't hurt just this once.

Damian smiled as the girl nodded and began walking with him. He let his hand linger on her shoulder for a moment-the charade was effective, actually, unless you were right next to her. Her shoulder beneath his touch felt too soft, too...sloped, perhaps, to be a man. It was something he'd never thought about before, but feeling even the most innocuous part of the form beneath the clothes spoiled the illusion. Of course, she was not aware that her mirage had been shattered.

"Really sir you are too kind. I am just a humble admirer, but if you insist. My name is Samuel Jones. I've heard that you have women begging at your feet. You give them the greatest pleasure they've ever known and then leave them a shattered mess. I guess I find that fascinating."

He tilted his head slightly as he listened. Well, at least it gave him a clue about who she really was. Clearly, she was enamored-"fascinated" to use her word-about his reputation, and that would explain why she was following. She'd looked a bit familiar, but he could not place. Maybe he had seen her before, at some party, some event? Perhaps. He knew he had not bedded her, he would have recognized that. Plus, she probably would not taken to stalking after him like this if she had slept with him. Hmmm, probably a virgin. He allowed himself a grin as he looked down at her.

"Well first thing Samuel, if you want some advice. Stop looking at the ground, my friend! Ladies really want a man who is confident. Get your head up, carry yourself with confidence. Here." He reached over and cupped her chin, carefully, and tilted her head up. He looked down into her eyes, smiling at her for a second. She did seem to have really lovely eyes-it was an unusual contrast for him to be looking at them while she was in men's clothing like that. "Second thing, call me Damian. Yes, I know it's entirely too familiar, and my parents would utterly disapprove, but I am not one for stuffy formalities."

He nodded at her, then, and continued walking, leading her into the alehouse. As they stepped in, he paused to take in the familiar smell of cigar smoke and of drink. It was early, yet, still before dinnertime proper, and the house was not crowded, but there were still several men present, brooding over their drinks, and at one table, playing a game of dice over coppers. He smiled and walked up to the bar. "Barkeep! An ale for myself and my friend, here."

Damian took both drinks and then walked to a round table, setting the two drinks down. He had to stop himself from the urge to pull out the lady's chair for her-he did not yet want to give away that he was on to her charade. He smiled as he sat down with his drink.

This was hardly courtship, but she knew it was probably all that could be achieved. It was almost disappointing to know that she'd fooled him. Her features hadn't been striking enough for him to notice. It hurt knowing that she was as plain as her mother always said. Somehow none of it mattered. She was with the count and it brought her a joy she'd never known. Still it was awkward. He thought her a young man, and what did she know of young men? Now he was leading her off for a drink.

"Well first thing Samuel, if you want some advice. Stop looking at the ground, my friend! Ladies really want a man who is confident. Get your head up, carry yourself with confidence. Here."

His hand lifted her chin, bringing her eyes to his. Her face was growing hot. Lustful thoughts invaded her consciousness, thinking of how she wished he belonged to her. Such a thing was silly. It was obvious that he belonged to no one, least of all her. She was grateful of this stolen time and this odd opportunity. Perhaps if she got to know this man, she could see his flaws. Then maybe she wouldn't desire him. It was a good plan, but theory was always easier than the execution.

"Second thing, call me Damian. Yes, I know it's entirely too familiar, and my parents would utterly disapprove, but I am not one for stuffy formalities."

They finally came to a building that she could only assume was the alehouse. As they entered, she was overcome with the strong smell of alcohol and cigar smoke. It was almost hard to breathe. It was crowded, loud, and uncomfortable. Never had she been around so many men in her life. She followed him to the bar.

"Barkeep! An ale for myself and my friend, here."

They soon found a table and took a seat. Her hand hesitated before grabbing a mug of the beverage. The closest she'd come to this was wine with dinner.

"Damian, you must tell me. What's your secret? I am completely useless in the romance department. How do you make them go crazy? Perhaps I am prying too much."

She brought the mug to her lips and drank deeply. It wasn't wine, that was for certain. She swallowed hard, trying to hide that it was a new experience. After it was down, she forced a smile.

"I guess I wonder why you take on so many lovers and how you do it.."

He watched her as she sipped at her ale. Ale wasn't really a sipping beverage, in his experience, but he didn't bother correcting her. He had already decided to let this opportunity play out. He took a swig of his own ale, studying his companion. In the dimmer light of this tavern, it was actually difficult to make out that she was a female. From here, he could see that her skin was perhaps somewhat fairer, could see the hint of a bosom beneath her jacket, but she was trussed up enough that it was hard to make out. He decided that nobody else in here would be able to see through her.


"Damian, you must tell me. What's your secret? I am completely useless in the romance department. How do you make them go crazy? Perhaps I am prying too much."

As he looked at her, he wondered how much of that was true. Was she completely useless in the romance department? It was tough to tell, garbed as she was, if she was particularly striking, but he certainly didn't find her off-putting. Did she have no suitors at all? Very daft of her to come stalking after him. Perhaps it was just that she found her other suitors boring, while he was definitely...dangerous. At least for a woman's reputation, if nothing else. It could be that she was merely a thrill seeker. Hmm-that was something to consider. Perhaps he would give her her thrills.

"I guess I wonder why you take on so many lovers and how you do it.."

He nodded to her. "Well, I certainly don't have just one secret, Samuel. And if I told you everything-why, they'd hardly be secrets!" He laughed and took another drink from his beverage. "I'll tell you this much-some if it I've never understood, myself. I suppose God gifted with some natural physical charms." Damian smiled as he brushed a dark hair back out of his face. "It's something in my features. There's no way that I can teach you that." He shrugged, as if disinterested. "But I suppose there might be a few things you could about your appearance-you'll just need to find what works."

He had to keep himself from snickering at that. Of course, if she were a boy, she did look like a sweet boy, with a pretty angled face-he'd seen men like that who had women sighing after them. Of course, since she was a woman, she really didn't have the necessary allure. Well, most women-he heard rumors of women who much preferred the company of women. That was beyond his own knowledge, though.

"One thing I can tell you is that I have a...it's a way of looking at women. It makes them feel desired, and it has done wonders for me in the past. As though you're a mountain lion, and they are a wandering lamb that you are stalking." He nodded to his companion, looking at her, studying her for a moment. "It's something like this."

Damian looked away for a moment, and h took a second to picture himself taking advantage of this poor girl. Of having her alone, in his grip, of her pleading-her body pressed again him, wriggling as he has her in his grasp. And then he turned to give her this look, his lips parting slightly, showing his teeth, his eyes narrowing, focusing. He enjoys the feeling-he knows he's teasing the poor woman. He decided his analogy about the lamb was apt-she had come after him like a lamb to the slaughter. Now he just had to decide exactly how he was going to slice it.

"Well, I certainly don't have just one secret, Samuel. And if I told you everything-why, they'd hardly be secrets!"

Her nerves were kicking in now. She could almost hear the beating of her own heart. There was no telling who in here might know her family. The thought of being discovered was hard to ignore. Still it was strangely exhilerating. Had she never come, she might never have gone to an ale house or talked to the Count. What else was she missing, being confined to her responsibilies? Perhaps this was what she needed. To see him laugh and smile, sometimes mere inches away.

"I'll tell you this much-some if it I've never understood, myself. I suppose God gifted with some natural physical charms."

"It's something in my features. There's no way that I can teach you that."

"But I suppose there might be a few things you could about your appearance-you'll just need to find what works."

He was right about that. He was different, and far too many times she'd imagined it. Him bare before her, giving her tender caresses. Too long had she desired to wrap her arms around this man, and feel his flesh against her own. Where had it all come from? Did women normally think this way? No, these must be the thoughts of a harlot. She cringed and hid it with another heavy drink of ale. Was it wrong to feel this way? To be so selfish? She thought about running fingers through his hair and kissing him deeply. No one had ever kissed her before, and it looked like no one ever would.

"One thing I can tell you is that I have a...it's a way of looking at women. It makes them feel desired, and it has done wonders for me in the past. As though you're a mountain lion, and they are a wandering lamb that you are stalking."

That was the look from the party. The one that started this whole thing. The look she thought of when she pleased herself and couldn't stop. If she were alone in her room, it'd be what she needed to do right about now. Was it even normal?

"It's something like this."

Her mouth hung open and her face went scarlet. There was that feeling again, like she couldn't breathe. Her undergarments were becoming soaked through. She wanted him to show her everything, even if only for a short while. He looked as though he could devour her, make her his slave. Her body needed air. She grasped the side of the table as if her life depended on it, and breathed in sharply. That was soon followed by a fit of coughing from the smoke.

"Oh, so the girls really go for that sort of thing? I guess I'm more clueless than I thought."

She looked around as if about to say something secret. This would take some minor acting on her part. With another deep breath in she went for it.

"Sir...I mean Damian. It's just that I've never, well. Been with a girl.. Please don't laugh, but I'm not even sure completely how it works."

This was a lie. She atleast had a general idea. Her body desired to be filled, so on instinct she'd learned to remedy it. Anything beyond romance stories and old anatomy books from the attic, she would be lost. All she knew for certain is that she wanted him. He radiated everything good women should stay away from. Perhaps she wasn't as good as she thought.

He felt a slightly victorious thrill as he watched her response. First her mouth seemed to hang open, and then she seemed to grow very disoriented as her cheeks became very reddened. She was clinging the table as though she was about to fall down. He had to very carefully school his face-no sense pointing out her discomfiture. He was still too much of a gentleman to call her out in such a manner, even though she was dressed like a man for the purposes of intentionally stalking her. Damian simply pretended not to notice, though he did smile as she began a coughing fit, brought on by her inhaling too sharply. He sipped his drink.

"Oh, so the girls really go for that sort of thing? I guess I'm more clueless than I thought."

He inclined his head, slightly, giving her a cordial nod. Damian could not help but notice that her voice was also tinged with arousal. It excited him to think of this girl slowly losing control of herself. Already she was close to letting her affected chest voice slip, sound more feminine when speaking that sentence than she had previously. Studying her as she became more flushed with her arousal, he was struck by the notion that this girl would make a most exciting plaything. For not the first time, he wondered at her name.

"Sir...I mean Damian. It's just that I've never, well. Been with a girl.. Please don't laugh, but I'm not even sure completely how it works."

Damian was very surprised by this comment. It was a very...atypical question of a young gentleman to another young man. She'd been playing herself off fairly well to this point, despite the flaws in her plan-namely, having slightly too shapely a figure and too pleasant a face to pass for male. But her question-could she really be THAT innocent? It was possible. He had had virgin lovers before, and they had often confessed to not knowing what to do. They had, however, been very enthusiastic, and their bodies had always had a sense of what they needed. None of them had ever asked for descriptions, though-demonstration was always best. He grinned at his companion, thoughtfully. How to respond? He decided to continue treating her as though she were another young man.

"Ahem, well, Samuel. I generally think that's something you might be best asking your father. Certainly not entirely appropriate for me to go into details like that with a gentleman that I have just met. Perhaps it might be more comfortable to, well, to speak of that some other time." Damian gave her a teasing wink, as though chiding a younger man. He took one more swing of his ale.

"So, Samuel Jones-are you of the Jones family in town, the apothecary? Or are you student at the university? I admit that I have not seen you around before a few days ago." He watched her reaction. He was curious about how good an actress she was-would she panic and scramble for an answer, or was she able to coolly lie when meeting an unexpected question. Surely she hadn't contrived answers to these questions in advance.

"Ahem, well, Samuel. I generally think that's something you might be best asking your father. Certainly not entirely appropriate for me to go into details like that with a gentleman that I have just met. Perhaps it might be more comfortable to, well, to speak of that some other time."

She mentally cursed herself. Certainly people didn't speak of that in polite company, but then again she'd never seen people speak of it. Infact everyone around her seemed to pretend that it didn't exist. When these feelings and desires came, she knew she was alone. Speak to her mother? Not a chance. She was very proper and was uncomfortable even discussing undergarments. It was unlikely she'd even respond to such a question. It was foolish to believe men were different, even a man such as he. This was getting out of hand. She had no idea what men thought about in the least. The bar, her slip up, the way her heart was pounding, it was wreaking havoc on her nerves. Her embarrassment was hidden by her mug as she took another drink. What else could go wrong?

"So, Samuel Jones-are you of the Jones family in town, the apothecary? Or are you student at the university? I admit that I have not seen you around before a few days ago."

The question sent her for a loop. She knew her aunt was thinking of taking her in after the spring. So it couldn't hurt to say something similar. If she said too much, he'd know something was up. It was best to get through this conversation and make a hasty retreat. Doing this, seeing the way he looked at her. It made her feel like a child being almost scolded. Her actions were indeed childish, but she hardly needed to be reminded of it. Were she a woman of more courage, she could have just waited till another party came up and approached him there. Infact all of it could have been avoided if she'd just said hello at christmas. What had he seen about her then that others didn't? If he used that look on her, he had to have seen something he liked, but what was it?
After a few moments she spoke.

"Oh I'm in town staying with relatives trying to decide my future. If things go well, my aunt and uncle may let me stay and attend university here."

She had stepped around the question. One could only hope that he didn't notice. What would he think of her if knew she was lying? What would he do? The worst would be him rejecting her, like every other man. It was inevitable. She'd probably die an old spinster like great aunt Gertrude. There was no fighting it. When she drained her mug she thought it an opportune time to make her getaway.

"Thank you for the drink, but I'm afraid I should be going. There are several things I should be doing at the moment. My uncle will be furious with me. However, it was nice meeting you."

She rose up from the seat and moved to leave, but found his hand fall on her shoulder again.

He watched as she attempted to generate a response. She hesitated for a moment, and he knew that she was being forced to invent a response on the spot. She did not fare too poorly, actually, coming up with something very quickly.

"Oh I'm in town staying with relatives trying to decide my future. If things go well, my aunt and uncle may let me stay and attend university here."

It was a fairly deft evasion, coming on the spot as it was. It left him no way of disputing it or discovering the lie, and she'd spoken levelly. If he hadn't already known her secret, he likely would not have suspected that she was hiding anything. Damian wondered again about her. She seemed innocent enough-she had been too shy to approach him directly, so she had taken to following him. She seemed curious enough about her own sexuality that he believed she was still virtuous. But still, she'd dressed up in a man's clothes to wander around, and she possessed some talent with lying. She was likely an endless source of distraction for her parents, despite her seeming innocence.

He allowed himself a smirk as he looked at her. He suspected that she would turn out to be a great ride. He would draw her in, like the spider to the fly, he decided, and see if he could not shed her layers of protection and inhibition. Slowly, carefully, and inexplicably. He felt himself becoming slightly enamored of the idea, aroused even, despite the fact that he had little idea of what she really looked like, given her present state. It almost as though she were a carefully wrapped gift that was to open and find what lay beneath. It held a certain delight.

"Thank you for the drink, but I'm afraid I should be going. There are several things I should be doing at the moment. My uncle will be furious with me. However, it was nice meeting you."

He quickly stood, reaching out clap a hand down on her shoulder. He left it there, letting it linger as he came up alongside her. She was light, despite not being particularly short for a woman, and he was able to restrain her fairly easily with his grip. He looked down at her, seeing a bit of trepidation in her eyes once again. Damian could hardly help himself from gracing her with his most charming smile, looking at her.

"It is rude to just leave polite company so quickly. I really hope that your uncle is working on your manners." His face became stern for a moment. "Generally a gentleman should announce his departure and then offer a farewell before attempting to flee, especially when dealing with proud noblemen."

He allowed his grin to resurface. "I'll bid you adieu as well, however. I have matters to attend in my own house. It has been pleasant speaking with you, however. I insist, you should call one me at my home tomorrow for tea. I'm sure anyone you ask can tell you where it is, if you do not yet know. I'll tell my doorman to expect you." His hand was still on her shoulder. He let his fingers lightly brush against her neck for a brief second, his touch very light, almost accidental, on her skin. Then he pulled his hand away. "I shall see you tomorrow. Good evening, Samuel." He nodded a dismissal.

Damian then quickly sought the proprietor, seeking to settle his tab before returning home. He was looking forward to seeing this young lady again tomorrow, and perhaps discovering her true identity.

His touch sent shivers through her, as if she was already his prey. He had her locked in place. When he smiled her heart still skipped a beat. She was no nearer to disliking this man. Not even close. If anything, it made her desire him more. It was crazy, but even now she wanted his arms around her.

"It is rude to just leave polite company so quickly. I really hope that your uncle is working on your manners."

He was right, where had her manners gone in all this? So much was going wrong.

"Generally a gentleman should announce his departure and then offer a farewell before attempting to flee, especially when dealing with proud noblemen."

Again she felt like he was scolding her. She made an absolutely terrible gentleman. What could she do? Her thoughts became scattered when he was around. He made her forget basic things, and she was willing to take insane risks just to be this close to him. It was making her a wreck. However she'd never felt such exhilaration.

"I'll bid you adieu as well, however. I have matters to attend in my own house. It has been pleasant speaking with you, however. I insist, you should call one me at my home tomorrow for tea. I'm sure anyone you ask can tell you where it is, if you do not yet know. I'll tell my doorman to expect you."

Her body shuddered again. For a moment his finger had brushed against the flesh of her neck. It was an accident, but a wonderful one. She was so in the moment that his invitation almost didn't sink in.

"I shall see you tomorrow. Good evening, Samuel."

She watched him leave and a strange sadness washed over her. He'd invited her for tea in his home. What had she gotten herself into this time? When he had gone she made her way out of the pub and began running through the alleyways and disappeared behind her aunt's home. In a flash she opened the window to her uncle's study and easily slid inside. She slid the window shut and closed the curtains. A knock came to the door sending her heart racing again.

"Miss Samantha. Did you fall asleep in there again?"

The maid's voice rangout on the otherside of the door. Samantha rushed to change clothing. She was getting used to this. The old suit was replaced with a soft blue dress. She rushed to pin her hair back before finally opening the door.

"I'm sorry, Sophie. I guess I just nod off sometimes. I'll come for supper in a moment."

When Sophie had disappeared she ran up the stairs to hide the clothes in her room. All she could think about was tea with the count tomorrow. She laid in bed that night thinking of what she'd say. When she woke the next morning, she couldn't help but go through her daily activities staring at the clock. There had never been a longer morning. When tea time rolled around, it was back into the study. It wasn't difficult to change clothing. The only difficult thing was the corset. She'd tried wearing it under the suit before but found it harder to move in at times. Instead she just kept the camisole and her bloomers. When she was finished changing, she locked the door and slipped out the window again. After leaping the fence she ran to the count's home and knocked at the door. She'd followed him there only once, but remembered it like it was yesterday. Slowly the door opened.

"Hello Sir, I am here to meet with Mister Welles for tea."

Damian had a late night that night. Of course, many of his nights were rather late. He'd invited several of his school friends over to play cards, almost every one of them gambling away their father's money. It amused Damian, even though he realized that he was doing the same. His father, of course, was in fact much more wealthy than of theirs, so it was hard for him to even consider finances as anything approaching an issue. Most of them wealthy commoners, merchants-and some of the lesser nobles felt he was such a disgrace for associating so close with them. Their noses were held so high in the air he felt a good deluge would drown the lot.

He lost money at cards that night, but it was little consequence to him. He won more than he lost. He'd been distracted, anyway, with questions about a certain young woman dressed as a man. He'd been tempted to share some of this with his acquaintances, but part of him wanted to keep the girl to himself. In a rather wicked moment, he thought that no one save he would know that the poor girl was with him, and nobody to think to look for her if she were to become...detained.

Before Gerard had gone to bed, he had informed him of what was to come. Gerard was almost impossibly discreet, a real treasure to someone like the young count who enjoyed visitors of all manner, both polite and disgraceful. Damian had the sense that he had been somewhat wild in his own youth, though he talked little enough about himself. "There will be a young woman coming by tomorrow for tea," he had told Gerard. "She'll be dressed as a man, but you should be able to discern that she's a lady if you get a good look at her. She'll likely use the name 'Samuel Jones.' Please, allow her to join me, and then see that we are not disturbed." Gerard had acknowledged him and then made his way to bed.

Damian had slept late the next day, classes being adjourned at the university, and the sun was well up in the sky, shining into his room and warming it as he woke. He began to make plans for his coming visitor. One of his first gesture was to dismiss most of the female staff after they'd completed their morning tasks. They were often very disapproving of his more shameful romps, and he imagined this one was going to utterly depraved by their standards. Having the poor girl at his mercy excited him in a way he had not expected, excited enough that he didn't think he would be satisfied at merely stripping away the girl's innocence. No, there would be much more done with her.

As tea time approached, he went to wait in the sitting room for his companion to arrive, having tea brought to him. He added his usual two lumps of sugar, giving the tea a quick stir, mulling over things for a final time. He was looking forward to divulging his stalker's identity, finally unmasking her. He honestly could not connect where he had met her before, and had little idea about who she was. Or perhaps it was too many ideas. Still it was flattering-despite his popularity, a young maiden compromising her morals and her respectability to actually pursue him. He smiled and imagined her whispering his name into the dark watches of the night. An amusing image. Just then Gerard entered, announcing his guests' arrival. "Samuel Jones, my lord." Damian dismissed him with a nod.

He rose for the chair to greet his guest, extending a hand in greeting. "Good day, Samuel. Please, have a seat." Damian returned to chair as the door to the sitting room closed behind Gerard...ominously, it sounded to Damian, who had some idea what it portended. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked across at the girl. "Shall I pour for you?"

The man at the door soon led her to the sitting room where she found Damian waiting. His home was gorgeous and well decorated. It was easy to see that he possessed more money than her entire family. She was more than impressed. Slowly she came to the table and shook his hand. The contact brought a smile to her face.

"Good day, Samuel. Please, have a seat."

The house was surprisingly quiet. A home of this size had to have a larger staff, but they seemed no where to be found. In the end she told herself that it was her nerves again and took a seat. Already she could barely contain her joy.

"Shall I pour for you?"

She smiled.

"Yes please. It's very nice to see you again Damian. I apologize for my poor manners yesterday and I am most grateful for your invitation."

Slowly the tea poured into the fine china cup. Immediately she thought of having china this beautiful for her own one day. Her nerves finally seemed to calm for once. Perhaps things were beginning to turn for the better.

He poured for his companion, taking another sip of his tea, grinning at her as she took a sip of the tea for herself. He watched for a moment, waiting for just how to spring his trap on her. "I'm pleased you could come, Samuel." He licked his lips as he studied her, letting her make eye contact as his grin turned slightly more sinister. "So tell me, Samuel....who are you, really?"

Not waiting for a response, he rose from his seat, stepping closer to her, looking down into her eyes. "It's...amusing that you thought you could pass off as a male. You're far to feminine, too curvy to be a man. Hiding beneath bulky clothes was enough from a distance, but anyone who gets close enough can detect your shape beneath them." He stood next to her, nearly looming over her as he watched her for a second, seeing her face beginning to contort in near-panic. Not even giving her a chance to speak her denials, he grabbed at her bowler hat-it really had been silly that she'd worn it the whole time-and removed it, spilling out her long hair.

She then looked as if she might bolt, so he grabbed at her arm, holding it securely, and he smiled mockingly sweetly. He felt eager to get these clothes off of her, to see what she wore beneath. All in due time, he thought. He kept his grip on her arm as he looked down at her. "Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered to have an admirer, and perhaps we can resolve this cordially without your family becoming...embarrassed. But you must tell me-What is your name? Have we met before?"

He turned the charm on, just slightly, to mix with the intimidation factor at this point. He straightened her hair out slightly with one hair, brushing it back off her face, letting his expression soften. He kept his grip on her arm, but made sure not to grip her too tightly, and he leaned in so that his eyes seemed to pierce her.

She carefully fixed her cup, adding sugar snd stirring it gently. Finally she brought it to her lips. Something about this ritual put her at ease, made her forget the danger.

"I'm pleased you could come, Samuel."

Her smile was becoming a full grin now. Perhaps this could work. She could be his friend, his companion. Maybe it would be enough. However, already her thoughts were beginning to wander. The thought of what his bedroom was like. What would it be like for him to have her on it?

"So tell me, Samuel....who are you, really?"

Her hand began to shake causing the cup to clack against her saucer. It felt almost like a splash of cold water. He immediately rose up from his seat, not giving her a moment to think. Her heart was beating so hard she thought she might die. It couldn't be.

"It's...amusing that you thought you could pass off as a male. You're far to feminine, too curvy to be a man. Hiding beneath bulky clothes was enough from a distance, but anyone who gets close enough can detect your shape beneath them."

He'd known the whole time? He'd known and said nothing? Already the consequences of her actions were beginning to sink in. Her family could find out. Already she couldn't find a suitor. With this, she'd be tossed into the streets. It was all a mistake, a risky and stupid mistake. In a flash he'd pulled off her hat, sending her light brown locks cascading down her back. She was about to run when he grabbed her arm, holding her firmly in place.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered to have an admirer, and perhaps we can resolve this cordially without your family becoming...embarrassed. But you must tell me-What is your name? Have we met before?"

She was absolutely terrified at his words. Tears were threatening to well up at any moment when he ran a hand gently over her hair and brushed it from her face. His eyes softened as he looked her, something she'd never seen him do. She took a few deep breaths before speaking in her more feminine tone of voice.

"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for what I've done. Don't tell my family. I embarrass them enough."

The tears flowed freely now as her body began to shudder.

"My name is Samantha. Samantha Elizabeth Kingley. My Aunt, held a party last Christmas and invited everyone. No one noticed me that night but you. You looked at me for a long time. Then you disappeared and never came back. No one every looks at me. I guess I was wondering why you did."

He could see the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. It was a mixture of terror and shame and despair at having been caught. She had to know that she'd been taking terrible risks, and now the possibility of shaming and disgracing herself, it was too much to bear. She had almost trembled in fear, nearly dropped her teacup. But she did calm down, to an extent, as his eyes softened. After a few breaths, she spoke.

"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for what I've done. Don't tell my family. I embarrass them enough."

He smiled at her, once again very sweetly, almost excessively so, as he leaned in. "Well, I can forgive you-you've not done anything wrong. But I don't know if I can promise not to tell your family...I mean, they really deserve to know what you're up to. You shouldn't really be moving about unescorted." His smile became very wicked, and he let her see a glint of the predatory instinct behind his gaze for a moment.

"My name is Samantha. Samantha Elizabeth Kingley. My Aunt, held a party last Christmas and invited everyone. No one noticed me that night but you. You looked at me for a long time. Then you disappeared and never came back. No one every looks at me. I guess I was wondering why you did."

He pondered. Kingsley. Yes, he remembered having attended the Christmas Party at the Kingsley residence. He thought back carefully-yes, there had been a girl there that night. A very tasty looking one, but his companions had been impatient, so he hadn't lingered. Though he'd rather hoped the girl would have approached and given him reason to escape his company. He smiled down at her, considering her last statement-which was almost a question without being one.

"Ah yes, I do remember you now. Samantha Kingsley-so that was you that I saw at that party." He smirked, slightly, then glanced down at her, amused. "Well, It's rather obvious, but wearing men's clothes does not do you justice, my dear Samantha. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, officially now." He then pulled her chair out from the table, and lifted her up by the arm, standing up in front of him. His eyes scanned her carefully, tracing down, very inappropriately, across her figure, down to her legs, and then back up. It was not at all proper, it was downright rude, but he had never been known for his application of manners. He then grinned at her. "Well, I was looking at you because it was a rather boring party, and you seemed to be the only interesting creature there. I let myself imagining the opportunity to get to know you...but I had other engagements, and my companions were eager to visit elsewhere. Now, it seems, I may have the opportunity."

Still holding her by her arm, he pulled her, until she was pressed up against his body, and he looked at her face, looking slightly downward by virtue of the fact that she was shorter than he, and he studied with the careful appraisal of a falcon looking at a rabbit scampering hopelessly across an open field. His other arm wrapped around her, and it began to move against her back, tracing up and down her spine, but moreover, trapping her against him. "That's not the only reason you followed me, is it. Tell me, do you think about me kissing you?" As he asked this, his lips were very near to hers, practically touching, and her had to pull back to keep from falling into the kiss as he spoke.

He released the grip on her arm, and then that hand slipped down to rest on her hip, remaining them, as his body pressed shamefully against hers. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked, looking at her face, feeling her warmth against him.

Her fate rested in his hands. She'd deceived him, or atleast she had attempted to. It was certainly not the best way to get on good terms with a person. He would out her and bring more shame to her family. First she could not get a husband, now she was a crossdresser stalking a seducer of women. It would ruin her completely, but atleast she could die knowing that she tried to be loved once in her life. With that thought he smiled down at her.

"Ah yes, I do remember you now. Samantha Kingsley-so that was you that I saw at that party."

He remembered her? How was that even possible?

"Well, It's rather obvious, but wearing men's clothes does not do you justice, my dear Samantha. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, officially now."

Her face was becoming red at his words. Without warning he pulled her chair from the table and lifted her to her feet. It was hardly the behavior of a gentleman and it made her nervous. He began looking at her as if studying every inch of her body. Was he perhaps admiring her. No, it couldn't be.

"Well, I was looking at you because it was a rather boring party, and you seemed to be the only interesting creature there. I let myself imagining the opportunity to get to know you...but I had other engagements, and my companions were eager to visit elsewhere. Now, it seems, I may have the opportunity."

This couldn't be real. She had to still be sleeping. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Suddenly he did the one thing she'd been dreaming of since christmas. He held her, pressing her body tightly against his own. The heat was building in her chest again. It felt better that she could even imagine. He was warm and smelled amazing. His hand caressed her back sending small shivers through her. Already she could feel wetness building between her legs. Why did her body do such things at a time like this?

"That's not the only reason you followed me, is it. Tell me, do you think about me kissing you?"

His lips were inches from her own. Her breathing was becoming ragged. She wanted him so badly that she could barely stand it. His hand let go and came to rest on her hip.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

After several deep breaths she managed to form the words.

"Yes, more than anything.."

"Yes, more than anything.."

It was entirely the answer he'd expected. He could look in to her eyes and see the arousal, the excitement conceal there behind her eyes. He'd seen looks like that too often to not recognize what it was, to not know that she needed what was to come, what he would do to her. Her breath smelled sweet as he let the moment draw out, and then he pressed his lips down against hers.

She was shy, but eager. Her lips did not flinch away, her body did not draw back, but she seemed to know little enough about kissing. He made sure the kiss was long and slow, his lips moving with hers. She caught on fairly quickly to the mechanics of it, her mouth moving his. He cupped the back of her head, keeping her in against the kiss, as his hand continued to move against her back. He dragged his tongue against her lips, and then her mouth opened to accommodate it. A mere few seconds ago, she'd probably never kissed a man before, and here she was eagerly tongue kissing him. The idea of her corruption made him rather hot.

He was moving against her, his body sliding against hers. He felt her wriggling slightly back against him-out of excitement, he thought. He wondered if she even realized that she was doing it. Could she feel the hint of his arousal beginning to press against her leg? He wasn't sure. He contemplated the taste of her tongue carefully. It tasted very...fresh. All of her body screamed at him of being unused, unsullied. He was eager to despoil her. Finally, he let her pull out of the kiss, once their lips were both rather raw.

Damian looked down at her then, and his smile was wicked as he studied her. He held her body tightly against his in both arms, feeling her curves melded against him, and then chuckled softly. "You're hardly a proper young woman, are you?" He slid a hand down until it was beneath the curvature of her ass. He was pushing her back, guiding her, in the general direction of the settee. "You're behaving quite scandalously." His tone was colored with amusement.

Her heart was beating so fast she felt it might escape her chest. His lips slowly met hers. Her dreams were not even close to how wonderful it was. He was far more experienced but she soon found herself following his lead. Her arousal was only becoming worse as she tasted him for the first. His touch, the caress of his tongue against her own, all of it setting her on fire. She felt almost weak, a slave to it. His body began moving ever so slightly against her. She soon found herself rubbing against him in response. Her body needed him, she ached for it. If only she could be more proper like her mother wanted, she wouldn't be here doing this with him. However these feelings within her could not be ignored or easily sated. When he broke the kiss she knew she could continue doing that for hours, but odds are he had other things in mind. His smile was devilish as he held her close.

"You're hardly a proper young woman, are you?"

Slowly his hand shifted to her behind. She sighed softly. He began leading her backward as he spoke.

"You're behaving quite scandalously."

She smiled.

"It is only because you have made me to be so. I can not help it."

Gently she nuzzled against him as he lead her towards the settee. Then looked into his eyes.

"Please Damian. Whatever you are doing, don't stop."

She didn't resist, didn't even seem to bat an eyebrow at his hand on her ass. He wanted to laugh at that. It seemed the last thing on her mind was proper social behavior at the moment. To be fair, it was also the last thing on his. She was just letting herself be led toward the settee, his hands moving on her body, her head even nuzzling against him. He paused as he had her perched next to the edge of it, ready to be tipped over at the right moment. He studied her with a malicious grin on his face. "Hmm, and I wonder what your parents, or your aunt, would think if they could see you just now."

"Please Damian. Whatever you are doing, don't stop."

Damian laughed at her as he studied her. "Oh, I don't intend to." His grin remained plastered to his face as he reached down to the buttons on her jacket, studying her carefully. "I think it's time we took this off, don't you? Hard to make out your figure beneath this baggy jacket." Before she could even speak, he was peeling it off of her shoulders, dropping it to the floor. He placed both hands on her hips, then, looking down at her. He could more clearly see the swell of her chest, now, without the troublesome garment in the way. He pressed a palm to the flat of her abdomen and then began to slide it up her stomach, toward her breasts. He chuckled softly as he watched her reaction.

"As much as you'd like to blame me for your scandalous behavior...you followed me. You cam here, sneaking out of your home, of your own volition. You could have stopped this at any point...but you don't want to, do you? What a wicked, shameful girl you are." He enjoyed his own version of dirty talk, telling her how wicked she was. In truth, in these circumstances, he had intention of letting her escape or stop this before he was finished, but he doubted she would object very much. His mouth dropped down, now, and h e had his lips on her vulnerable neck. He took his time dragging his lips and tongue against the skin of her throat-most women had some kind of special erogenous zone, there, and he was taking his time to find it properly with his mouth. As he kissed her, he let a hand trace across the front of her thigh, moving up and down, and then his fingers brushed playfully across where her crotch lay beneath the pants she was wearing.

"Tell me...do you ever touch yourself...there?"

"Oh, I don't intend to."

His hands moved to her jacket. She could hardly believe it was happening. He hadn't rejected her. She knew what was happening, what he would do, what it meant. She didn't care in the least, all she wanted was to join with him.

"I think it's time we took this off, don't you? Hard to make out your figure beneath this baggy jacket."

He began unbuttoning her jacket and soon removed it. She should be alarmed and full of shame, but those feelings never came. Her eyes went wide as his hands moved over her. This was an act usually reserved for a wedding night, and here he was not caring in the least. Shivers moved through her again as he inched towards her breasts.

"As much as you'd like to blame me for your scandalous behavior...you followed me. You cam here, sneaking out of your home, of your own volition. You could have stopped this at any point...but you don't want to, do you? What a wicked, shameful girl you are."

It was true, all of it. None of it mattered to her as long as she had him. Even if only for a short while. His mouth moved to her neck, kissing her there. It made her arousal begin soaking through her underthings. It was embarrassing and she feared him seeing it. Soft whimpers escaped from her lips. Then his hand found the space where she so longed to be touched.

"Tell me...do you ever touch yourself...there?"

She let out a sharp cry as his fingers brushed against a sensitive spot.

"I am the things you say. I touch myself there everyday, sometimes three times in a row. I can't stop because I'm thinking of you."

Again she moaned as his fingers brushed the spot again.

"I know it's dirty, but the way it feels... I need it."

Her body was shivering, almost shuddering, up against his. She was already lost to her pleasure and he'd barely even scratched the surface with her. How was she going to be when he really had her wound up. He cackled wickedly with the idea. Listening to her whimpering, he wondered if she'd end up begging him. This could end up being a lot of fun. He needed to see her naked, soon, and see if she was worthy in being a long-term plaything of his. She might end up totally disgracing herself for him. Her family would be furious-but Damian's father was the Count. What did it matter if some snooty merchants were angered?

As he looked down at her chest, he could make out the hardening buds of her nipples through the shirt he was wearing. He licked his lips, pressing his mouth back against her skin, kissing and licking against her relentlessly. He listened to her moaning, crying out, as his hand moved against her crotch. She was so responsive...it was making his cock hard. He knew she had to be able to feel it, resting on her hip, his pants tenting outward against her. Then he heard her words.

"I am the things you say. I touch myself there everyday, sometimes three times in a row. I can't stop because I'm thinking of you."

He grinned. Well, well, a truly excitable minx she was. Yes, he'd be having a lot of fun with her. This lovely little thing-he would wind her up until she answered to his beck and call. His top hand reached the sweet of her breasts through her shirt, and he cupped them in his hand, squeezing to get the feel of the size and shape of them. He could feel the excitement of her nipples against his palm. "Well...what a naughty girl you are. Let's see if you can't be even more wicked and disgraceful."

He chuckled as he grabbed at her pants, now, unbuttoning them and zipping them down. His hands were practiced when it came to undressing females-of course, he was more used to them wearing somewhat less masculine clothing. Still, most dresses and corsets were much harder to undo than a simple pair of pants. He had her belt removed, and then they were sliding down her slender legs. He glanced down at her, seeing that she wasn't wearing a slip beneath-but then again, why would she wear a slip when she had on pants? Of course she wouldn't...just wasn't something he'd ever thought about.

As a result, he was able to see her full bared legs all the way up to her white undergarments. She had very pale legs, but very well cut, and they arched toward an excellent set of curvy hips, with a rounded ass ready to be grabbed and squeezed. And her panties...were practically soaked through with her arousal. He could detect the smell of her as soon as the pants had loosened. "Well, you really are a raunchy wench." As he spoke that, removing his shoes, he pushed her backward. She fell over onto the settee, landing suddenly, and he peeled the pants off of her ankles before crawling on top of her.

Her eyes shut tightly as his hand slipped beneath her shirt and camisole. He grasped a single breast causing her body to tense. This wasn't a dream or a fantasy. He was running his hands and mouth over her body and she was loving every minute of it.

"Well...what a naughty girl you are. Let's see if you can't be even more wicked and disgraceful."

She was pretty certain she could do worse, but it was difficult when she was this nervous. It was one thing to do such things with herself, but entirely different to do this with him. He began undoing her pants slowly, she wanted him to move quicker, but he seemed to enjoy taking his time with it, drinking her in as he began sliding them off. She was afraid he'd see her, what his actions did to her. Her briefs were soaked through as his touch was wonderful.

"Well, you really are a raunchy wench."

With that he pushed her onto the seat and began removing his shoes. He soon removed her pants completely and climbed on top of her. She was in over her head. The warmth of him was intoxicating. She could feel something hard pressing against her and she began grinding slightly against it. The feeling was making her insane. She needed him to keep going.

"Damien please. I need you."

The look in her eyes was desperate.